Rosie's Corner Store
by reen212000
Summary: Sundays were always boring... The boys are on Earth for some R&R, and they need groceries. This appeared a while ago on LJ.


Boring. Boring. Boring.

Sundays at Rosie's Market were slower than weekdays, mostly since they opened the Super Walmart down the street.

Randy flipped through another magazine, trying to ignore the horrible Muzak playing today. She was sure the day manager did it on purpose just to annoy her. But then Chad's breathing pretty much annoyed her anyway. The manager had decided to take a lunch nearly an hour ago; Randy hoped it would be a very long lunch. The less seen of him, the better.

Chad had a new girlfriend from Denver, and he thought he needed to impress her. Once a week, she would come down here, get wined and dined, then leave again. Randy was sure the woman lived the next town over, and lied to her new beau to get better treatment. Whatever.

Sighing, she reached over for another magazine. Stupid pictures of stupid girls wearing stupid clothes. All in colorful, eye-catching layouts.

The bell rang at the front, announcing customers. Two men entered the store, one looking more tired than the other; the frowning man in a wheelchair being pushed by a smiling man. After the boring day she'd had, it took her a moment to realize the man was smiling at her. If Chad were there, he'd yell at her for not greeting the customers.

"I forgot my list, so we're gonna have to wing it," said the man pushing. He was tall, with dark hair and pretty eyes. The guy looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and walked with a limp.

"We get the basics, I guess," the other man said, clutching a plastic basket balanced on his knees. He looked worse off than the other, with bandages around his head and hands. His skin was nearly as white as the gauze around him, but his cheeks were very pink.

"Let's start in the soup aisle."

"Sheppard, if I see another can of soup, I will pummel you with it."

"Now, now," his friend chided. "Be nice, Rodney. Besides, I like soup."

"That's because a) it's the only thing you can cook, and b) it's the only thing you can keep down."

Well, that explained why he was so skinny.

"Hey, I eat, just not as much as you."

Randy listened to their conversation as they ventured deeper into the store. _I think I'll do inventory._ She stayed one row away, following the two most interesting people she'd seen all year.

"What about mashed potatoes?" Rodney sounded like a whiner, but Randy gave him some slack. It's possible the man was just in pain. His friend tsked; she thought maybe he would roll his eyes.

"Fine. We'll try it," he sighed wearily. "Carson is gonna kill me."

"Whatever. Like he's gonna know."

"Still… Hey, want Cream of Wheat?"

"Anything would be preferable over that glop you call oatmeal."

"My cooking is perfectly fine. You're just cranky."

"Oh yes, that must be it. I'm cranky. A sprained wrist, a broken leg, concussion, and too many scrapes and bruises to count. Cranky, indeed."

"We need eggs," Sheppard seemed to ignore the plaintive remarks, and moved toward dairy. "And milk. What kind of juice do you want?"

"Anything. I – What the hell are you doing? Put that down!"

"What?" Sheppard's voice was amused. "I like orange juice. Miss it, in fact."

"Are you trying to kill me? Is that why you dragged me out to this God-forsaken town?"

"No," the other man drawled. "It's not like you're gonna drink it."

"You know how often I wake up in the middle of the night. What if I get up in my heavily drugged state, and accidentally pour my own death? Then where would you be? Limping around, looking for a way to finish me off?"

Sheppard laughed. "No," he said slowly. "I'd call someone first, _then_ sit and watch you writhe on the floor, suffocating."

"Thanks. I knew you were a good friend. Hey, we need bread."

This was an argument between very close friends, Randy surmised. She wished she could see their faces.

"You doin' all right?" Sheppard asked wearily.

"Yes, yes. Fine. Just tired," Rodney snapped from below.

"All right. We need a couple more things, and we're outta here."

They were quiet for a few moments; Randy could hear the squeak of the wheelchair two aisles down. Canned Vegetables and Fruit. The distinct sound of two cans hitting the tile floor could be heard over the horrible music.

"Sheppard! That was my – Hey, hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said quietly. "Just kinda dizzy.

Rodney sighed. "Did you eat at all today? I know you barely touched dinner last night…"

"McKay –"

"You know what? Forget I asked. Field trip's over. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah, okay."

Randy dashed to the checkout, trying to look as bored as when she began. She wasn't quite prepared for what she saw. The two men looked worse than when they arrived. Sheppard shuffled the wheelchair through the line, his limp more pronounced. If were possible to look more exhausted, this man showed it. Randy considered calling a cab for the both of them.

As she rang up their groceries, she tried to think of something interesting to say, and failed. Glancing surreptitiously at the taller man, Randy saw him casting worried looks at his companion. A sad smile crept up on her; she never meant to get involved with customers, but they needed help. _It must be nice to have someone care so much about you._

"Find everything okay?" Randy asked the inane question out of habit.

Rodney mumbled from the wheelchair something about Jell-O. Sheppard smiled fondly. "Yes, I got your Jell-O. And pudding. Thanks, I think we got what we needed." He slid his credit card through the machine, and signed. Now, he looked like a man in a dilemma. Too many bags, and flagging strength.

"I'll help you with those," Randy assured the stranger. A look of relief briefly crossed his stark features before it disappeared. She followed them out, arms full of bags, and waited for the doors to unlock. Sheppard awkwardly opened doors; she hadn't noticed the cast on his right arm. There was also a bandage peeking through the collar of his shirt. Whatever happened to these guys must have been horrible.

Sheppard helped Rodney into the small SUV. Reaching over his friend, Sheppard put the key in the ignition and rolled down Rodney's window. "You okay for now? We'll be home soon."

"Are you?" Rodney asked after a brief pause. "You should be still for a minute."

"I will in a minute. Just –"

"Randy! What the hell are you doing outside the store?"

The store cashier jumped, nearly dropping the last bag. Randy wanted to say nothing and everything to her insipid manager. But nothing came to mind. "Yeah, sorry, Chad."

Sheppard stood defensively between the advancing man and his temporary charge. "Now, hold on. She was just helping us out."

"And leaving the store unattended is –"

"Yes, yes, yes. I'm sure your girlfriend is impressed by your bravado," Rodney said. As he spoke, his words gained clarity and sharpness. "May I remind you, while it is daylight, many things can happen to a person left alone. So tell me, Chad, why was your employee left to fend for herself for over an hour? Is there someone I can call to report this?"

"McKay, you might wanna dial that back –"

"Could it be that your out-of-town floozy swanned into town looking for a free lunch?" Chad sputtered, and Rodney continued, much to Randy's amusement. "Are you aware of the crimes in this area? It just so happens, Miranda here took pity on a pitiful guy named Sheppard –"

"Hey!"

"– and helped him out with the groceries, which is the most generous thing I've encountered since our sabbatical here in this sorry excuse for a town ironically called Security. If you even think about firing her, I'll –"

"McKay! Give the guy a break." Sheppard turned to the girl beside him. "Thanks for your help. I gotta get him home before he really gets started."

Randy couldn't help but smile. "No worries. I think seeing old Chad freeze up like that was all worth it." She reached into her apron pocket, pulling out a card. "We deliver, so just call if you need something, okay?"

Sheppard's brows quirked as he squinted at the card. "Good to know. We'll –"

"We'll definitely be in touch. Gotta go, John." Rodney's voice sounded weak; he shielded his eyes from the afternoon sunlight.

Nodding carefully, Sheppard limped over to the driver's side. He took a deep breath before putting the car in gear, and rubbed his eyes. He waved his casted arm and drove off.

Randy watched them go, wishing them a safe trip.

"What are you standing there for?" Chad shouted. "Just because some gay guys stuck up for you, you think your special now?"

Rolling her eyes, Randy turned on her heel and when back inside. "They're not gay, dumb ass."

"What did you –"

"Chad, honey," the girlfriend spoke. "You are being a dumb ass, and they weren't gay. Honestly, I didn't think you were intolerant to different lifestyles."

Her companion froze. Again. "What? I'm tolerant!"

Checking her watch, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I have to go. The girls and I are going to the club tonight. See you next weekend! Bye Randy!"

The store clerk half-heartedly waved from her register. Glancing at the phone, Randy wondered if she'd ever hear from the two men again.

-------------------

The End. For now.


End file.
